


The Avenging Dark Knight

by The1whoknox



Category: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Ass-Kicking, Avengers Tower, Batcave (DCU), Batman in MCU, Batmobile (DCU), Crossover, F/M, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Not A Fix-It, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Wayne Manor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27316366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The1whoknox/pseuds/The1whoknox
Summary: When a man sees destruction centered around six individuals calling themselves heroes he won't stand for it. He will don his cape and cowl once more. His mission will begin again, but more brutal then before. His brutal method of justice that make other fear him. When The Avengers take notice, they see him as a threat. A threat to the peace they have made it must be stopped. They can try. He has no powers or gifts. All he has is his mind, skill and will. He is Vengeance. He is the Night. He is Batman.
Relationships: Will Be Added Soon
Kudos: 4





	1. The Dark Knight Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Bruce Wayne witnesses mindless destruction that only started because six individuals. The anger and rage begins to build as he will start his mission again.

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman. He belongs to DC. I don’t own Avengers; they belong to Marvel. Marvel belongs to Disney. We all belong to Disney.

“Tell Me.” – Normal Speak

**“Do You Bleed?” – Electronic/ Robotic Voice**

_“You will!” – Foreign Language Dialect_

**There was a time above, a time before. There were perfect things. Diamond Absolutes.**

Thirty-one years ago, a funeral procession was ending as two coffins were being sent to a family mausoleum. The cast over weather matched the situation. Cold wind tore through the area, carrying leaves with it. In front of the procession were a small boy and an older man. The boy clung to the older man as he let whimpered out in sadness. The boy had been through a traumatic event, an event he felt was his fault. If only he had been stronger.

**But things fall, things on Earth. And what falls is fallen.**

As they neared the entrance to the mausoleum, the boy’s fear and heartbreak were too much for him. He runs off from the procession, leaving the man he was with. The man at first was shocked by the young man’s sudden action, “Master Wayne!” he calls out. The boy doesn’t stop. He calls out using the boy’s name, “Bruce!” Bruce continues to run as he wipes some tears that formed. It was finally hitting him that he was now burying his parents. Bruce runs through multiple gravestones from his family graveyard into the adjacent woods. He just wanted to get away. Away from the pain. Away from the mistakes and away from the loneliness.

He was there that night. His father, Thomas, and his mother Martha had taken him to see _The Mark of Zorro_. They all had a good time watching the movie in the old Monarch Theatre. Thomas had an arm over his wife’s waist and an arm around his son’s shoulder. They laughed as Bruce talked about his favorite part of the movie. Bruce was thankful that they had gone to see the film as he leaned into his father. They walked down the street as they went to meet the loyal Wayne butler Alfred.

Bruce continued to run as he pushed his way through the low hanging branches. Some had sprung back at him and lashed him. He didn’t know how far he ran, nor did he care. He just wanted his family again.

The family continued to walk the poorly lit streets of Gotham. As they walked, a figure at the end of the street took notice of the richly dressed people. He walked towards them menacingly as he drew a gun and pointed it at Thomas’s face. Everything after that was silent for Bruce. Thomas stepped in front of Bruce and Martha, putting himself between them and the danger.

Bruce had kept running, but he still didn’t feel better. He didn’t know where he was, the memories of the night. His foot caught a root from a nearby tree. He fell into the leaves. He stayed down only for a moment as he scrambled to feet and continued to run.

Thomas was not pleased with the gun trained on his family. The man demanded the paper in his wallet and the pearls around his wife’s neck. All the while, the man waved the gun around. Thomas held Bruce behind him for his own protection. He wanted to make sure his son was the safest out of the three of them. It was all the man could stand. His fist tightened as he made an attempt to swing at the man. The gunman was quicker and fired first. The barrel discharged the bullet casing, and the slide going back. The bullet hit the Wayne patriarch, making him collapse to the ground.

Bruce ran further and further away from the funeral. His feet carried him far. Then as he ran, the sound of splintering wood echoed around him. He tried to catch himself on the ledge, but the force he hit with caused his grip to slip. He fell into the dark abyss below, all the while screaming.

As the casing from the first bullet hit the ground, Martha tried going for the gun. The assailant easily fought off the weaker woman. When the gunman swung the weapon up, he got it in the loop of the dangling necklace. The necklace was caught taunt on the hammer of the gun. The barrel was in Martha’s face. The trigger was pulled, and the hammer snapped back along with the slide. The strings of the pearls broke, causing the pearls to scatter in the air. Martha’s body fell to the ground and the pearls along with her. The gunman was in a state of shock as he watched what he did.

Bruce had hit the ground of the old mine shaft he fell into. The soft dirt did cushion his fall, it wasn’t enough to keep him from getting the wind knocked out of him.

Martha’s lifeless body hit the ground; the pearls of her necklace bounced on the sidewalk and street. Bruce’s young mind tried to process the events that happened a few seconds ago. He couldn’t, and he did the only thing a boy his age could do. He let out a scream. The gunman then made a break for it. He didn’t want to be around when GCPD came around. Thomas Wayne was still miraculously alive as he witnessed the whole thing. Maria’s still body directly across from him. He spoke out the only thing that mattered to him at that moment, “Martha.” The words came out a hallowed whisper. Then he was gone. The few remaining pearls that bounced fell into the street down into a storm drain.

Bruce groggily looked up the old mine shaft. The only light source coming from the broken planks he fell through. The noise of chittering and wings flapping caught his attention. In front of him was a small cavern that housed to what looked like hundreds of bats. Bruce started to breathe heavily. He was afraid of bats. He let out one final breath that was a tad bit too loud. The bats burst out the cavern and swarmed the boy before heading for the opening above. Bruce tried to swat them away but to no avail.

Suddenly Bruce stopped swatting and looked up. As he did, he felt different, he felt no fear. Bruce started to levitate as if the bats were helping him ascend the mineshaft. He was free now, he was strong. He would lift himself back up from the depths. From this day forth, he would make sure no one else would feel the loss he did that day. Sadly, the light he was shown would eventually fade and reveal the truth of the world.

**In the dream, they took me to the light—a beautiful lie.**

**May 4 th, 2012**

**New York,**

**The World Is Introduced to The Avengers**

The battle for New York was reaching its peak as a helicopter attempts on a helipad near the coast. Jets roared as they streaked across the sky to fight the alien invasion. Bruce Wayne hopped out before the helicopter could make it to the ground. Bruce was an older man at the age of forty. His age showed through his grey hair that was by his temples and the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. Even though he was aged, his body did not show it. He had the body that an Olympic athlete would be envy of. Broad-shouldered and muscles that looked to be made of stone. To top it off, the man was handsome as well. He was listed as the most eligible bachelors in the world.

He looked up into the sky to see a blue beam shooting up into the sky. It was coming from Stark Industries. The beam tore open a portal that was pouring out aliens. The aliens came in different shapes and sizes. Some were humanoid and were riding floating chariots. Then there were the big ones, that looked like giant armor-plated snakes with razor-sharp teeth. The jets were no match for the alien as they were blown out of the sky or eaten by the Leviathans. Waiting for him on the platform was his head of security in New York, “Conroy! What the hell is going on?” Bruce asked.

Conroy was an older man, with dark brown hair, five o’clock shadow on his chiseled jaw and cheeks. He was slightly aghast as he spoke, “Anarchy, sir! Absolute anarchy!” he said. His voice was deep but was slightly pitched from his fear. He was able to deal with common criminals, but here he was in over his head. Aliens were too much for him. **(1)**

Bruce gritted his teeth as he looked at Conroy’s security car. He then put his hand and motioned for Conroy to couch up his keys, “I need to use your car,” Bruce said. Conroy threw his boss the keys and watched him get in taking off.

Bruce had to get to the center of the city. He had to make sure the people in the New York branch of Wayne Industries was safe. Conroy had a car waiting for him when he arrived. He got in the car and drove into the heart of the city. As he drove, he watched as car after car drove through an intersection in a panic. He was going the direct route straight through the intersection when suddenly one of those flying chariots tore through a building. He made a sharp turn, and that direction was not better. One of the Leviathans crashed into the street, tearing it up as it came to a stop. Bruce then saw the reason why, the green monster of rage, The Hulk, stood atop its head as it pummeled the beast’s skull in. The Hulk let out a roar of triumph at the cars. Bruce then made another turn down another street to get away from the monsters.

As he drove as fast as the car would go, he pulled out his cellphone. He was calling the head of the New York branch, Lucius Fox. He only had to wait for one ring before it was answered, “Lucius!” Bruce immediately yelled into the phone.

In the Wayne Industry, a tall, aged, sharply dressed man answered the phone as he watched the destruction unfold through the seventieth-floor window. He turned away as he saw who was calling and replied, “Bruce!” He was slightly revealed that the man called, it felt like old times.

Bruce burned rubber as he maneuvered the car through abandoned and destroyed vehicles. He was able to focus on driving while talking, “Lucius, listen to me! I want you to get everyone out of the building! Right now!” he instructed his friend. He knew Lucius would take care of things for him till he got there.

Lucius was one step ahead of his friend. He was already directing people on the floor out of the building, “Already ahead of you, Bruce.” He then called out to the workers, “Hurry up, people! We need to get out here now! The boss wants us out!” Lucius stared back out the window and watched as another Leviathan tore through another building. After it was done with the building, a man in a red and gold suit went flying at it. It was Tony Stark, otherwise known as Iron Man. As Iron Man flew towards the Leviathan, it opened its mouth, and he flew in. Suddenly underneath the armor, the beasts hide started to bulge and shift. Iron Man then flew straight out the other side of the Leviathan. The monster let out a death roar and slowly started to fall to the Earth. Iron Man though crashed into a building that came from across

Bruce heard Lucius’ yelling coming from another end of the phone. He wanted to keep talking to Lucius to keep him in the loop. He called out to his friend, “Lucius! Lucius!” he received no answer. In frustration and fear, he grits his teeth as he slammed the phone into the passenger seat. As he drove, he witnessed cars crash in an intersection as neither decided to yield to one another. Bruce cut the wheel as he turned down another mobbed street. People were trying to get out of the battle as fast as they could. Some people turned their heads as they watched a car drive into the carnage.

As Bruce drove, he came across several Chitauri that were me in the streets. Bruce went to put the car in reverse when lightning struck the ground. It revealed a man with long golden locks, wearing silver armor that looked a mixture of plate and chainmail. Upon his shoulders was a red cape that flowed with the wind that the hammer kicked up. Bruce had heard about this man from the news as well. It was Thor, an Asgardian, an alien from outer space. Thor shot lightning from his hammer, and it struck home at the Chitauri. The hostel aliens shook and rattled as they dropped to the ground. The ones in the chariots went limp, causing the chariots to crash into the streets below.

A chariot explodes at it, impacts the ground, and explodes. It sends a wave of fire and smoke down the street at Bruce’s car. Thinking fast, Bruce pulls the emergency brake on the car and causes it to skid. The fireball licked the car as Bruce sped it down an alley. Bruce punched down the alley outrunning the ball. He cut the wheel again, skidding before abruptly stopping by crashing into a pair of dumpsters. The car continued didn’t stop as Bruce continued to drive, cutting through a parking lot. Bruce drove through an abandoned car’s door, someone left open. He managed to get back on the street and continued to drive into the city. As Bruce got to another intersection, it was being cordoned off by police and firemen. He turned again, aggravation showing on his face.

Up above in the sky, Hulk and Thor battled together, fighting Chitauri on the back of a Leviathan. Hulk tossed one to Thor, who then bashed it with his hammer. Hulk then ripped a piece off the Leviathan’s armor off and jammed it down into the beast. Thor then charged his hammer with lightning and brought it down on the piece of armor. As they fought, the Leviathan went down a narrow street, cutting through buildings as it went. Bruce was directly beneath it and the debris from the buildings as it passed over. Luck was again on Bruce’s side as he was able to outpace the falling debris, although barely.

Bruce again turned in another intersection, skidding as he moved. The buildings collapsing just behind him. As Bruce drove, he looked at his surrounding; he noticed people looking up in the sky. He mimicked their action, and what he saw frightened him. Civilians were walking in the middle of the street to look at the heavens above. Bruce slowed the car to a stop as he saw a wall of people staring up in awe. Some did take notice and moved aside as to not get hit by the oncoming vehicle. He grabbed his phone while getting out of the car and watched the portal continued to pool out more and more aliens.

Bruce felt his heart tense in his chest, and a pit began to grow in his stomach. There was no end in sight to the destruction that this was causing. Bruce started to push people aside as he went through the crowd. He had to get to Wayne Industries, New York. Bruce made his way around the corner and was greeted with smoke. Pieces of buildings and destroyed vehicles littered the streets as he weaved through the mess that was the streets of New York.

Inside the Wayne Industries building, Lucius was doing one final check to make sure everyone got from the high-floor businessmen to the janitors. He was the last one in the building and was on his way out. Then looking out the window, he saw a Leviathan coming right at the building. Lucius knew there was no chance of him getting out. He drew in a breath before giving a heavy exhale. He steadily walked over to his office. It was a spacious place that was surrounded by walls made of glass, except for the back wall, which was painted a warm brown.

He sat in his chair as the building around him rumbled and had pieces of it were falling from the ceiling. H looked two photos on his desk. The first was of him, his now-deceased wife, youngers his two daughters and son sitting on a picnic table, all of them smiling at the camera while waving. The second was of a younger him, a younger Bruce and a younger Alfred. He smiled fondly. In all his days, he could never imagine his life would have turned out the way it did. He pulled out his cellphone and called Bruce’s number.

Bruce jogged towards the Wayne Industries building on the street as he redialed Lucius’ phone number. He stopped when he witnessed the alien beast go into the building in an unknown floor. Bruce’s phone went off in hand, and he quickly answered, “Lucius tell me you're out of there?” he pleaded.

The voice on the other end sighs before saying, “Sorry to say Bruce, but this is the end for me.” The voice sounded so tired as he talked.

Bruce quickly yelled, replying back, “Hold on, Lucius. I’m coming to get you!” He wasn’t going to lose another friend. The Leviathan already had its head in the building, and the rest of its body was following. Bruce stared at the sight in awe.

Lucius continued to talk as the building came down around him. He was calm and relaxed, accepting the inevitable, “We really had some amazing adventures together, didn’t we? Tell my kids I love them,” he said in nostalgia and remorse.

Bruce’s heart stopped, “Lucius?” he asked weakly.

Lucius continued saying, “We really made a difference, didn’t we … Ba…” the phone call discounted at the building came down on Lucius.

Bruce screamed out, “Lucius!” and took off towards the collapsing building. As he ran towards the danger, workers from the Wayne building were running away. Even as a dust cloud came rushing towards him, he didn’t falter; he ran with determination. Bruce had stopped as the dust became too thick for him to get his bearings. He kept walking, a police horse without its rider wondered by him. Bruce couldn’t believe what had happened in all an hour of fighting could cause. It made Bruce’s blood run red with fire as he stood around watching. He had witnessed the city nearly be destroyed. He had witnessed innocent people die. He had witnessed good people die. There seemed to be no plan installed for this kind of thing. The hope of this city no the entire world, was a set of six individuals.

Bruce couldn’t even call them heroes; they were a set of individuals that happened to be at the right place at the right time. Two were ex-assassins who were more accustomed to finishing missions than seeing everyone getting out alive. A Super-Soldier from the days of old who was a soldier through and through. Always took an order and never refused. A billionaire playboy who was hot-headed and more interested in making smart-ass comments. An alien from another world that paraded around like a god during the times of old. Then there was a man who became a rage monster he couldn’t control that always did more harm than good. It was all their fault!

As he walked through the cloud, he passed many people who stared at him in confusion. They wondered why he continued towards the danger instead of away. They didn’t stop him; they were too dazed themselves. Bruce heard the voice of a woman who was trying to remain composed. As he got closer, he saw it was a teacher that was doing her best to keep her students together and keep them calm. Bruce assumed they were on a school trip when this hell started. Bruce could relate how the children were feeling, to have their entire world come crashing down on them through a traumatic moment. Bruce notices a little girl go off on her own as she tried to get a stuffed animal from a pile of debris. Bruce quickly directed her back to the group of children when another teacher took her off his hands.

Out in the distance, he hears something, “Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne!” someone was calling out to him. He followed the voice and found a Wayne Industries employee trapped beneath a steel girder. The man whimpered and sobbed as he spoke, “I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my legs.” Bruce knew that kind of pain, a pain where you feel nothing even as you try your hardest to.

Bruce knew that he was not going to be able to lift the girder by himself and called out, “We need some help over here!” He then saw the panic in the younger man’s eyes. Bruce comforted the man, “Hey, you are going to be okay. You hear me?” He was trying to reassure the man that he would be okay. Bruce knew from a glance the man would never have use of his legs again, but he would at least have his life. Trying to get a little personal in order to keep the man talking and take the focus off the pain, Bruce glanced over the man. He found what he was looking for in the man’s ID badge. He said the man’s name, “Wallace?” The man’s name caught his attention. He couldn’t believe his boss was talking to him and even using his name.

Bruce continued seeing his distraction was working, “What they call you Wally?” he said cheerily. He had to put on a strong face for the man.

Wallace was now panting from the pain, but it had lessened, “You’re the boss. Boss,” he said. He was happy that someone was helping him, even more shocked it was the owner of his work.

Bruce smirked, seeing as the man was better than he had found him. Suddenly three people came to help. Two went to grab Wallace’s arms, and the third went to help Bruce. While Bruce and the other man lifted the girder, the other two pulled Wallace to safety. Looking at his legs, Bruce saw they were shattered in two places above the knee and in the middle of the tibia. He would probably never walk again. Bruce grimaced at the injury and the reaction of Wallace, who found out he still couldn’t move his legs.

Metal moving and rubbing against itself caught Bruce’s attention. About twenty feet off from where Wallace was pinned, he saw a little girl standing petrified under a column of concrete and rebar. Bruce had to guess that the girl had hidden underneath it for protection. However, it was about to come crashing down on her. Bruce sprinted towards the unaware girl. His legs pumped as hard as he made it just in time. As he ran, the column started to descend, pebbles and sand rained downed. He grabbed the girl picking her up and out the way. As soon as they were clear, the column fell forward, smashing the spot where the girl was.

Bruce then places the girl back on her feet as he squatted down to her level. He got down to her level as to not intimidate her. He then spoke in a low voice to give the girl some comfort, “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” He had said that to the girl to assure her, but also to assure himself. He needed to believe that it would happen. He could believe it, he would make it so. He would not have another young soul die on his watch. He then placed a comforting touch on the girl’s cheeks, “Alright? Huh?” he asked the girl. Bruce was able to get a nod from the girl. Bruce knew he had to get her somewhere safe with someone she trusted. She didn’t have a backpack on, so Bruce ruled her out as one of the school students.

Putting on a friendly smile, he continued, “You know what, we’re going to find your mom. Where is she?” he asked the girl. She then became on the verge of tears. When she pointed behind him upwards, his heart sank. He slowly looked behind him. Papers partially on fire fluttered in the air like leaves, dust continued to hang in the air. While the majority of the bottom half was intact and only bore minor damage, it was the top that made Bruce recoil. The top half of the building was in flames as smoke billowed from the destroyed building. Bruce felt for the child. Losing a parent was never easy, especially at such a young age. Bruce shut his eyes as a pained looked spread across his face. He was about to say something else to the child when rumbling from the sky grabbed his attention.

He instantly frowned as he saw a man in gold and red armor carrying a missile in the sky. It was Iron Man, Tony Stark, one the bastards that caused all this. Inside Bruce’s mind, anger began to fester as he stared at the man in the sky. He hugged the small girl as she didn’t need to see what her final moment could be Iron Man delivering a bomb. The rage built inside as he gained a renewed sense of purpose. It was time for the mission to begin again, but this time it would be different. 

**Nineteen Months later**

**December 10 th, 2014 **

**Gotham City**

“The Incident.” That’s what the people called the alien invasion that rained down fire and hell onto the city of New York. The body count reached into the hundreds of thousands. Since then, the world didn’t seem to learn its lesson. The world allowed Tony Stark and his suits to run rampant. Some group called A.I.M. tried to destroy the man. The funny part after doing some digging, it came to light most of the people of A.I.M. were all members of Tony’s past. They were all people that Tony had ignored and walked over on his walk of fame. Then there was the London incident where another race of aliens invaded the Earth. This time it was caused by the Asgardian Thor. He brought his war with a race of aliens called the Dark Elves to Earth. Along with them, he brought portals that had opened across all across the galaxy. Thor had been able to fend them off, but nearly at the cost of London.

In a squad car by the docks, two officers sat in their squad car. One was a hardened longtime cop Officer Mazzuccheli. His partner was younger, fresh out of the academy officer, Officer Ruka. Disappointingly they were not on the prowl for wrong crooks or thieves. They were watching a college football game. It was Gotham City vs. Syracuse University, and Syracuse was blowing out Gotham City. It was nearing the end of the game as even one of the commentators stated that only “Die Hard” fans were still watching this game. Suddenly the radio of the cruiser received a call from dispatch, “ **Delta Charlie 27. Reports of screams coming from vacant home at 1939 Harborway.** ” The dispatcher didn’t get an answer right away as the officers were too involved with the game to respond. The commentators were ready to sign off when Gotham City called an audible, and they were looking to score.

Officer Mazzucheli looked in disbelief, talking to the screen as he said, “Just take a knee.” He couldn’t understand where this fight came from. He wondered where it was for the last three quarters. The quarterback from Gotham dropped back and threw a bomb to the endzone.

 **“Delta Charlie 27,”** The dispatcher called out again when she didn’t get a response from the two officers. The throw ended up being a touchdown. The duo let out a disappointed breath as they watched the turn of events. **“Delta Charlie 27! Do you copy!?”** the dispatcher said in an annoyed tone.

Mazzucheli then let out a heavy and replied back, seeing as the game was now finished, “10-4. We’re on it,” He hung up and gave a nod to his partner. The silent command telling him to get ready. As they peeled away from where they were parked. The passed a sign read Gotham Seaport and then spray painted in black was graffiti that read The End is Nigh. They quickly made it to their assigned destination, which was a rundown old home. Mazzucheli grabbed his pistol and flashlight while Ruka grabbed the shotgun from the rack that was attached to the cage. Mazzucheli then knocked on the door of the home, calling out, “Gotham PD! Open up!” The duo waited for a moment and got no response. He knocked again, this time more aggressive, “Gotham PD! Open…!” a scream from inside the house. Mazzucheli kicked the door in. He motioned for Ruka to take the lead into the house. As soon as they were inside, they both knew that this call was more than initially thought.

The interior of the house was bare of everything except cobwebs. The wooden floor looked to be in need of replacement. The banister of the stairs looked to be secured by only grime, and the first touch would send the rotting wood off the stairs. As they entered the house, the wooden floor beneath their feet creaked and wobbled with each step. Ruka heard a noise coming from below them. Mazzucheli flashed his light down towards the back where a door was open. As he cast his light, the duo saw something embedded in the frame of the door. Mazzucheli recognized it immediately. He had seen a similar object just like that years ago. Ruka, on the other hand, was too young; he looked at with confusion before ignoring it to go down to the basement.

Ruka took point as Mazzucheli gave him a nod to open the door. Ruka swung it open and aimed down the stairs anticipating someone waiting for them. Ruka took a hesitant step down first, and when he did, the stair creaked. When it did, the voices of many females started talking. Ruka ditched protocol as he then hurried down the steps, a little too fast for Mazzucheli’s liking. He called out in a sharp hush, “Kid, what the hell are you doing!?”. When Ruka peered over the banister, he saw the voices were coming from a group of oriental women that were jammed tightly in an iron-barred cage.

The women were all speaking to one another; most of the were frazzled by something. Ruka and Mazzucheli made the assumption that it was them being shoved in a cage that caused that. One of the women saw the two officers and started to issue a warning, _“It saved us.”_ The two officers approached as she continued talking, _“A devil.”_ Mazzucheli shined his light at the women and grimaced. This was as low as Gotham could get. All his years on the beat, he saw things that would make a wet behind the ears rookie like Ruka piss themselves in fear.

Ruka saw the women shake and hyperventilate, so he tried to comfort them and softly spoke as he stammered out, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He crept slowly closer as he spoke. He then motioned between himself and Mazzucheli while saying, “We’re gonna help. We’re here to help.” Ruka was now close to the gate as he spoke softly, even though he had no clue what the woman was saying.

The woman was not finished as she said, _“It saved us.”_ She didn’t know what it was that saved her and her fellow captives, but she was thankful.

Mazzucheli then called out to his partner, “Kid, we have to call this in. This just went way above our paygrade.” He then grabbed the radio that was clipped to his shoulder loop on the jacket and called it in, “Dispatch this is Charlie Delta 27. We’re gonna need a 10-52 at my location. And as many as you can spare.” He looked over the woman in pity. They were most likely fooled into coming here to America. They were mostly guaranteed work of some kind before the next thing they knew, they were being used as prostitutes.

Ruka spoke to the women again, “We’re gonna get you out of here. Okay?” Mazzucheli then took notice of the door to the cage. The lock to the cage was broken by what he didn’t know. So it confused the man as to why they stayed where they were. He got his answer when Ruka went to open the cage, and immediately the girls firmly closed on themselves. All the while, they shook their heads, refusing to come out. Both officers looked at one another in surprise; they didn’t comprehend. Ruka was confused; he thought the woman would be showering him with appreciation, not hiding in the dark cell. He tried to pull it open again, but the women tuck back with more force making the door rattle the noise echoing throughout the house. Ruka swallowed a lump he didn’t know he had in his throat; he put the hand that held the forearm of the shotgun as a sign of peace, “We’re not going to hurt you,” he said a little above a whisper.

Then the woman who did all the talking put her arm through the bar as she pointed a shaky upwards, _“It’s still here.”_ It was at this time Ruke noticed how her voice faltered as she spoke.

Ruka lightly shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

Suddenly a scream came from upstairs that made all the women gasp and shriek as the scream resonated in through the house.

Ruka looked at Mazzucheli, hoping for some form of advice. Mazzucheli knew the look, “You go and investigate kid. I’ll stay and wait for back-up,” Ruka went trudging up the stairs. However, before he could get all the way up the stairs, Mazzucheli called out, “And be careful!” If Ruka heard him, he didn’t acknowledge him. Ruka was feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body. This was why he became a cop. He wanted to save people and take down the people who broke the law. If he got a promotion and pay raise to go along with it, that was wasn’t so bad either.

Ruka went back to the first floor of the house as he quietly walked toward the stair leading up to the second floor. Ruka looked at the stairs wearily as he tested to see if the decrepit thing could hold him. He put his right foot on the first step and shifted his weight to his leg for a test. Satisfied it would support him, he took each step with caution as he kept his shotgun trained at the top, waiting to use it if the need called for it.

As he five steps up, he heard the sound of a pathetic, whimpering voice cry out, “Please stop! I don’t know where it is!” Ruka continued his climb, focusing his shotgun on the only entrance to the second floor. The voice let out another cry saying the same thing for a second time, “I don’t know where it is!” Ruka was starting to shake, his nerves getting the better of him as he climbed. He had no idea what was happening, and to be perfectly honest with himself, he was happy it wasn’t happening to him. Then suddenly, the sound of flesh being hit followed by a bone-chilling scream, “NO!” Ruka flinched at that scream as he panned the shotgun around, looking for the source of the scream. He resolved himself as he started his climb again, but a pathetic gurgle and whimper quickly halted him. Ruka’s hands shook as he finally got to the top of the stairs. He followed the source of whimpering. Ruka hadn’t noticed before, but it was pitch black in the building. He peaked over his shoulder as he thought he saw movement in the darkness.

His heart started to beat heavily in his chest, his palms began to sweat, and the hairs on his arms and neck stood on end. He crept towards the area he heard the sounds from before. The walls upstairs were worse than the ones downstairs. The plaster was gone entirely from the walls as the bricks peaked through, showing it lost its red hue. As Ruka got to the corner of the wall, he did a mental countdown before he sharply turned the corner and was greeted with a disturbing sight.

Down a short hallway was a room whose only source of light was a single low hanging light and a man who was chained to a radiator by his wrists. The man’s breath was raggedy as Ruka took slow steps towards the room. The man chained to the radiator, spit out some blood from his mouth as he continued to wallow in pain. Ruka nearly tiptoed as to not give away his position. As he got closer to the man, he saw that he was of Latino descent, and his labored breathing was starting to frighten the young officer. The man let out a strained, “Oh, Fuck.” Ruka then looked at the man’s body, and it nearly made his stomach upheave. The man’s face was bloody and swollen. His mouth was missing a few teeth. However, the most distinguished part of his body was a brand that was on his left pectoral.

Ruka’s police training finally overcame his fear as he decided to check the room. He first glanced to his right, seeing only an aged wall and ceiling with a couple of holes here and there. Little did he know over his left shoulder, something or someone was clinging in the corner of the room where the floor and ceiling met. Ruka felt eyes on him as the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Slowly he turned his head to his left. At first, he didn’t see anything, but as he craned his neck further and further back, he noticed a long black piece of clothing. He followed the article of clothing until he realized it was attached to someone. The light from the lightbulb did little to illuminate the being. His dark suit made it perfect for him to hide in the shadows.

Ruka had heard stories, rumors about someone dressed as a bat. However, the man hadn’t been seen for nearly five years. The man had fought everything from crime bosses to freaks, supervillains, and even clown. That man was hanging in the corner of the room, staring him down. Ruka’s fear took over as he snapped the barrel of his gun to the man and opened fire. Batman dodges the first blast from the weapon by swinging his body so he can bury his hand in the ceiling. Ruka didn’t relent as he fires again and again, shell bouncing to the ground as they clattered next to feet. Batman then scurried across the ceiling, narrowly avoiding the shotgun blasts. Each blast that hit took chunks out of the ceiling as drywall, wood, and bits of dust fell to the floor.

Ruka continued to fire, his fight or flight instinct taking over his mind. His fear telling his brain to eliminate the threat to him. Batman then suddenly disappeared into a hole in the ceiling that was being enough for him to get out. Ruka tried one more shot to get the man, but only hitting the cape as he did. When the cape disappeared following Batman, Mazzucheli appeared in the doorway of the room. Ruka reacted out of fear and fired a shot. Luckily the shot hit the right of the doorframe. Mazzucheli ducked and twisted the front of his body away from the blast to avoid getting any injury to his face or chest. Mazzucheli did a quick check, first patting his chest looking for holes, finding himself in one piece, he whips back up screaming, “Christ!” He was ready to throttle his partner’s neck.

Ruka was sweating as he swayed back and forth in place, the adrenaline trying to work out of his body. He leaned forward a little bit as if to tell him a secret, “I saw him.” He let out a mixture of a laugh and a whimper. His mouth just kept going as he tried to calm himself, the fear and excitement wearing off. “I never saw him before. I… I didn’t know.” Ruka had heard stories about the masked vigilante of Gotham City, but to see the man in person was something else.

Mazzucheli marched into the room as he barked out, “You almost took my face off!” He was not happy that he almost died from his partner. That would be the talk of the precinct. He then brushed past Ruka and, in a gruff voice, said, “How about you don’t shoot the good guys, huh?” Ruka then followed behind his senior officer as they finally had a chance to inspect the man. What Mazzucheli saw took him aback. Mazzucheli had been at many crime scenes where Batman had been present. He hand seen men beat and bruised. Monsters chained to wall and clowns nearly broken. This was not like any he had ever seen before, “Oh. Oh,” he said solemnly. Mazzucheli then turned his flashlight at the man, more accurately his chest. The man became aware of his audience as the light flashed on him. The man was gritting his teeth, glaring at them, and snarling at the officer. Mazzucheli looked in disbelief at the wound at his chest, muttering out, “Jesus Christ. He branded him.” Mazzucheli knew it was Batman’s doing. The brand was in the shape of a bat.

**December 11 th, 2014**

Director Nick Fury was enjoying a cup of coffee as he looked out the window of his office in the Triskelion. Below him was a hanger, and inside were engineers, mechanics, and scientists who were completing a masterpiece of his own vision, Project Insight. After “The Incident,” he had convinced the World Security Council that they needed something like this. Project Insight were three Helicarriers that would be their defense against all threats, including ones from beyond the stars.

As he gave himself a satisfied huff, one of the few he ever granted himself. Everything was coming together for him. The Avengers were a success and were ready whenever they were needed again. Stark was making him and S.H.I.E.L.D more new vehicles with his Repulsor technology. The best part was Stark was keeping after trouble after the A.I.M incident. Thor was off-world, keeping threats from coming to Earth or, as he put it, “The Nine Realms.” Bruce Banner was under the watchful eye Stark who gave him a job in the newly christened Avengers Tower. So far, the man kept his anger in check, which was suitable for all parties. Then there was Captain American or Steve Rogers, the greatest soldier ever created or trained was now running a mission for him. Along with Rogers, he had one of the greatest spies ever in Natasha working for him as well. The only significant loss he had to deal with was Clint Barton leaving to deal with some personal responsibilities.

His computer let out a chime notifying the man that he had a message. Fury turned and raised an eyebrow at the noise. That wasn’t a message from the S.H.I.E.L.D secured database. He went to his desk and sat down as he went to his email app on his computer. He moved his cursor through the screen and opened the message. He began thinking of what or who could message through a non-secure server. His thoughts automatically went to a billionaire man-child that had an act for pissing him off with disaster after disaster. When he finally opened it, he narrowed his eyes, it from Susan Carter, one of his agents. She knew better than to ever send anything of importance through an unsecured email service, and yet she did it anyway. She wasn’t at the Triskelion. She was posing as a neighbor for Rogers to keep an eye on him and to guard the man. She was told not to break cover under any circumstances. Only under death

In the subject were the words “We Have A Problem.” In the email was a link. He clicked it and was redirected to an online news website. The email address read gothamcitynew.com. The title of the article read The Bat is Back as Judge, Jury & Executioner. The picture that went with a man with a bat-symbol branded onto his chest. Usually, this wouldn’t be something he was concerned with, but the man was what concerned him. The caption read that the man’s name was Caesar, but Nick Fury wasn’t interested in him. He was more interested in the man who branded him. Nick recalled the time he encountered the man. It only once, and it was the only time Nick Fury had even lost. He was bested by the man, he not proud of it, but it was a fact. He had lost to a man of all the things. He had faced down aliens, “gods,” and monsters. None of them had beaten him.

However, back then, the man had a code, a sense of honor. If the article was correct, then the man he held in private respect had changed. He changed for the worse. Fury snapped his hand out his and grabbed an earpiece that acted as a phone. He received a series of beeps and gave a command, “Contact Agent Romanoff.” The phone made it, so the line was secure and started to ring.

An answer came from the end, “Go for Romanoff.” The sound of a chopper blades came from the background of wherever she was calling.

Nick went right to the point, “I need you back here immediately.” He then thought about for a second and then thought that maybe more this may be more than she could handle by herself. He then added, “Contact Barton and pick him up on your way back.” He would need his best agents for what he needed.

There was a pause on the other end of the line for a moment before she asked, “Is it bad?” Nick could assume she meant New York “The Incident” bad.

Nick then sighed as he had to admit one thing he hated to admit, “I don’t know.” The words tasted bitter coming out of his mouth. It was his job to know every possible thing, every situation, every outcome, and every worst-case scenario.

“I’m on my way back.” Nick heard the line disconnect as she finished speaking.

Nick then looked out his window as he leaned his elbows on the armrests. He hummed as he began thinking of all the possibilities of why he was back. The man spoke out to no one in particular as he said, “Why are you back? Batman?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Alfred discuss Bruce's methods and future plans. Fury tells a tale of his first encounter with Batman. Tony thinks of way to draw people back to New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was well-received. Thank everyone who took the time to read, and I hope you like what I have written so far. I plan on doing this more and more as the reception continues. Also, I fucked up the timeline; I meant for this to take place in December 2013, not December 2014. I already fixed it in chapter 1. So just some quick response to reviews and then on with the reading.

**December 12 th, 2013**

**Gotham City**

Bruce stood in an elevator that slowly descended underground. His outings the last couple of nights had turned up next to nothing in his investigation. He did leave a few street thugs broken and bruised, but he still lacked information. He would get answers later on another night. The elevator stopped, and he walked out in a grey suit with a black shirt underneath it. He was in his lair, which was dubbed the Batcave by his young ward from many years ago.

The Batcave was his base of operation. He had built in the cavern system that was underneath the old Wayne Manor. He had built the housing units out of concrete and had glass windows installed to look down into the cave. He could see the many vehicles he had developed and built with the help of Lucius. Lucius. Bruce would have to add another memorial down below next to the other one. Another reason to never go down below.

The Batcave was suspended in the air, touching the top of the cave. A waterfall slid down a section of the housing unit of the Batcave to the natural spring below. There was a ramp that allowed him to get his car out of the cave. The ramp exit was actually under the lake that was adjacent to the old Wayne Manor.

He walked down the halls, listening to the sounds of tools at work. Bruce rounded a corner and saw his oldest friend hard at work, “Still working?” he asked. Then he took a jab at the man, “You’re getting slow in your old age, Alfred,” he said jokingly. He would have been lost without Alfred. With both his mission and his life. Alfred had been with the Wayne family for as long as Bruce had been alive. He had bandaged him, helped heal, and been his anchor for years. The man had greyed black hair that was slinked back, thick black-rimmed glasses, and even though he was older, only sported wrinkles in the corner of his eyes.

Alfred didn’t bother looking up as he continued to work on the Batsuit. “Age comes to us all, Master Wayne,” Alfred fired back at his ward, sass evident in his voice. He then gave the man a glance, “Even you got too old to die young.” Alfred was saddened by the life he chose to be Batman. Bruce had rarely opened to people and only to a select few. He chose this life, and Alfred would always be the friend Bruce could lean on, no matter how many times it tore him up on the inside. “And not from lack of trying,” Alfred gloomed.

Bruce had taken his suit jacket off and was neatly folding it in his arm. He and Alfred had a more familial relationship than that of a boss and worker. Alfred had been by Bruce’s side through the thick of things, from the highs to lows. Never once did Alfred ever complain that was not his usual snarky tone. Bruce would have been lost without the man. When he first started his mission, Alfred tried to talk him out of it, but 

The Batsuit was Bruce’s, Alfred’s, and Lucius’ masterpiece. It had taken years of trial and error, along with many different incarnations of the suit, to get it to what it was now. It was made of highly durable Kevlar-titanium tri-weave protective suit and combat armor to compensate for his lack of invulnerability. It consists of three thin, highly durable Titanium-Kevlar bodysuit layers and an outer and thinner layer of durable and heatproof spandex. It is invulnerable to blades when slashing, low-caliber bullets, and is also heatproof. The Batsuit also has a sophisticated utility belt that contains the majority of the technologically advanced equipment.

Despite the protective materials, the suit's material allowed Brice to still be light and agile, which provides Bruce with the ability to fight and move without restrictions. The Batsuit’s long black cape ended with a serrated design at the bottom that emulates bat’s wings. The gauntlets had three metal scallops on each forearm that were mainly used to block against knives or other stabbing weapons made of leather. The cowl, neck, gauntlets, and boots that can effortlessly deflect small caliber rounds and blades, though the rest of the suit is not impacted proof nor impregnable.

The cowl was what Alfred was working on. The Batsuit's cowl also digitally alters Batman's voice, making it unrecognizable to both people and any program that could identify his voice. Last night, while he was integrating the man, Bruce claimed it was faulty. Alfred was tinkering with it to see if there was any problem. Alfred put the voice modifier to his throat and spoke, **“Funnel Fairy Butter Bar. Funnel Fairy Butter Bar.”** Bruce raised an eyebrow at the choice of words but didn’t say anything. **“Funnel Fairy Butter Bar. Funnel Fairy, ther** e’s nothing wrong with the microphone,” Alfred said, putting the voice modifier down. He then leaned down to get a better look at the cowl. If it wasn’t the microphone that left only one other option left, “It's this new layer of armor.” If that was the case, he would be working for a long time, “I’ll just have to re-wire it,” Alfred sighed out through his nose.

Alfred went to a tray he had prepared previously for Bruce. It was something light with a glass of orange juice and a boiled egg. Alfred had to always fight Bruce to eat something over the years, and he threw more food out than Bruce ate. “So, last night was productive?” Alfred had an inkling by Bruce’s brooding.

“Nope,” was Bruce’s reply. He then started to open files on the Batcomputer. Bruce spoke as he opened files, “He was too love level. He knew nothing.” When the file opened, he presented Alfred with his new lead, “This is a man who knows things.” Pictures of a roguish man appeared on the screen. “Anatoli Knyazev,” Bruce said, unimpressed, this was the next person he would interrogate. The screen showed a picture ID of the man, which was written in Russian. Another set of pictures showed tattoos; one was a portrait of The Virgin Mary on the back of his hand. Another was a palace located on his forearm. “He’s Russian. Contracts all over the globe, but he’s based out of the port of Gotham,” Bruce said, not liking someone like this was in his city. Anatoli’s rap sheet appeared next to his picture, “Weapons, and human trafficking.” Bruce felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He would have to find this man to get him the information he needed then send him out to the bottom of Gotham’s bay. “Also rumored to be a former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent,” Bruce said. That was the bit of information that really excited him.

Alfred chimed in, breaking Bruce of his thoughts, “So the White Portuguese is a Russian? That’s the theory?” Alfred’s words were full of his usual sarcasm.

“No,” Bruce replied. As he took a seat, he continued, “The theory is, the Russian will lead me to the man himself.” Bruce reclined back in his chair, studying the man. 

Alfred put his hands on his hips as he prepared Bruce a cup of coffee, “If he is indeed a him,” Alfred said, pointing out this White Portuguese could be a woman. The duo had met many dangerous women in their time. Especially a certain green eco-terrorist woman. Alfred poured the coffee, “You don’t even know if he exists. Could be a phantasm.” Alfred tried to point out that this mystery person could also be nothing.

“One that wants to bring a dirty bomb into Gotham?” Bruce fired back, looking to his butler then back to the computer. Revealing to Alfred, this wasn’t just him chasing ghosts.

Alfred was slightly annoyed his ward had gotten a one up on him. Alfred would let Bruce have this one, “Ah, high-stakes round.” By letting Bruce have a little victory, he would bring his attention to something he desperately wanted to talk about. In the trey that carried Bruce’s refreshments. He picked it up and threw it down on the desk of the Batcomputer. It was a newspaper from the Gotham Free Press. The front-page article read Bat Brand Of Justice! The picture that followed was that of two GCPD officers dragging the man Bruce interrogated last night. The man was beaten to a pulp, and the brand Bruce left on him was zoomed in, displayed in the corner. Alfred spoke with disappointment, deliberate in his voice, “New rules.” He wanted to hear Bruce’s reasoning.

Bruce turned his attention to it for a moment picking it up, looking at his work. “We’re criminals, Alfred. We’ve always been criminals. Nothings changed,” Bruce said dismissively before tossing the newspaper back on the desk. He went back to focusing on the computer.

Alfred wanted to wring the younger man’s neck. There was a reason for the change, “Oh, yes it has, sir,” Alfred said curtly. It was everything that Bruce had failed to do. It was the guilt of not saving Lucius. It was the loss of a ward unable to stop another from leaving and the ward he couldn’t save. “Yes, it has, sir,” Alfred said gruffly. “Everything’s changed,” Alfred declared as he went to the computer.

Bruce looked up at one of the many side monitors of the Batcomputer and watched as Alfred pulled footage of The Event. Alfred showed a video, both amateur and professional, of The Avengers fighting the Chitauri. “Men fall from the sky,” Alfred said as the video’s played. Iron Man came down and fired upon the Chitauri. “Soldiers from another time coming back to fight another war,” Captain American was tossing his shield at the aliens before it was back in his hands. “Assassins killing in the light of day,” Black Widow and Hawkeye were in the middle of a group of aliens killing them with arrows and bullets. “Monsters from nightmares come bearing their rage,” Hulk was slamming aliens on the ground, and when he was done, he let out a roar, jumping away. “Gods hurling thunderbolts,” Thor was seen blasting lighting into the aliens in a chain effect killing them.” Another video clipped showed buildings collapsing and with people still inside, “Innocents die.”

Bruce glared at the screen. He hated these people who called themselves heroes. They weren’t heroes; they were monsters just like the things that came to New York. He hated the alien from another planet and the green monstrosity that was level Harlam, especially. “That’s how it starts, sir: the fever, the rage. The feeling of powerlessness,” Alfred said grimily. Alfred looked over to Bruce, “That turns good men cruel,” Alfred said as he grimaced. Alfred was hoping Bruce wouldn’t continue down the dark path that he swore he would never do. Alfred walked away from his work and out of the cave. Bruce sat there, watching his friend leave at a haggard pace.

**Triskelion**

Fury sat in his office as he waited for two of his best agents to enter. Things were not looking good. The World Security Council was breathing down his neck about this “Bat” in Gotham City. They were not happy he was back. For five years, the man had been quiet. Fury had done some digging and was shocked at what he had found. Crime was the highest it had been in the fifteen years since Batman came along. He looked at an old article by The Gotham Press, dating back to May 30th, 1995. The front picture showed a group of thugs tied upside-down from a side of a building. Fear was etched on their faces, and the article title read, Who Is The Gotham Vigilante? This started right after the Captain Marvel incident, so here he was a freshly ordained Director of S.H.I.E.L.D looking for a man who seemed to have too much time on his hands.

The door to his office here pushed opened, and in came Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Natasha was a beautiful, slender woman with red hair cut at the neck level. Clint was an older man with a strong but not bulky build, and his hair was blond in color. Fury was satisfied that he could get both his top agent on this. Fury was going to need them. The first to speak was Clint, “What’s going on Nick that you needed us back ASAP?” his voice gave away he was slightly annoyed. Clint was on a small vacation to spend time with his wife, daughter, and toddler son. He had promised to take some time off to finish some side projects around the house for the family when a Quinjet landed on his front yard ruined it. Natasha had briefly entered the home to see his new baby. He could tell she was slightly disappointed it wasn’t another girl like his oldest, but she loved the boy all the same. She quickly briefed him, and the next thing he knew, he was saying goodbye to his family.

Natasha spoke up, “What’s the problem, Nick?” Straight to the point as always, that was what Nick liked about her.

Fury motioned for two to sit as he didn’t react to Clint’s outburst. The duo did as instructed, waiting for the debrief of a mission. It took a moment for Nick to find the words, to speak, “I asked you here today to discuss this.” Nick then slip over a file to the two. He stared at the two and gauged their reactions.

Natasha had been shocked that she was given an actual file. An existing paper file was not something to be found in S.H.I.E.L.D. Paper was something that could be lead right back to them, and Nick was not the kind of man to make such a stupid mistake. However, all her thoughts paused when she opened it, and inside were new paper articles upon articles. Some of them had pictures showing someone or something flying across the night sky. Natasha had not been in the loop for some time, but even something like this would have been discussed.

Clint snatched the paper from Natasha’s hand and took a moment to read the article. He raised an eyebrow at his boss, “The guy in Gotham? He’s real?” He then tsked and threw the paper to the desk, “So what? We’re worried about a guy that looks like he prowls in his parent’s basement.” Clint sat on the arm of one of the chairs leaning back with his arms crossed, completely unimpressed.

Fury eyeballed the former assassin, “I would be careful on how you judge this man,” Fury said in an ominous tone. He then stood up and got face to face with Clint, who stood up straight. Fury then spoke strictly as if lecturing the man, “If he was still active at the time, I would have brought him in to lead The Avengers.” Clint’s eyes widened at the statement.

Natasha was able to conceal her surprise better than Clint. Her only tell of intrigue was a delicate eyebrow. Natasha was intrigued; she wanted to know more about this man who had her boss’s respect. Natasha ran interference, so Clint didn’t get her boss’s foot in his ass. “You’re putting a lot of trust in one man, Nick. You always told me that was a stupid mistake,” she got her boss’ attention as he snapped in her direction.

Fury turned to his desk and pulled out more articles and news clippings, along with a file that he made himself. Fury shoved the file into Clint’s chest before he spoke, “He is the one man I respect the most.” He moved behind his desk and took a seat. Letting his two agents scan through it.

Clint pulled open the file and spread its contents across the desk so both he and Natasha could read. What the duo saw perplexed them. The articles contained exploit after exploit of this Batman. Some of him saved children, some of men tied up to a light post bloody and bruised. Another showed one was of Gotham’s waterfront saying Poisoning of Gotham Bay Stopped by Batman. Clint came across something particular and held it up to Natasha and exclaimed, “This can’t be real!” It was a picture of Batman wrapping a monster that looked to be a mixture of man and reptile.

Fury sat a little higher to get a better look at it, “That’s is a man who suffers from a rare skin condition called Epidermolytic Hyperkeratosis. Along with taking some mutagens to gain a tail and denser scales. His name is Waylon Jones. Better known as Killer Croc.” 

Natasha took the picture into her hands, examining it. She was shocked, and she rarely ever was in her line of work. Natasha couldn’t find the monster being a man in a suit, “Nick? Why is this the first time I am hearing about this?” Natasha considered herself to be Fury’s right hand. So she was wondering why she wasn’t made aware of a potential threat such as this. “Why is a man like this still free? Shouldn’t he be in our custody?” The look Fury gave made her remember her place.

“Since you asked so nicely, Natasha, I’ll tell you,” Fury spoke, getting comfortable in his chair. “I had met the man face-to-face once, and that was before he was dealing with freaks like Croc,” Fury got a faraway look in his eye. “He was only active for a year and a half before he landed on the World Security Council’s radar. They asked that I oversee the apprehension personally,” Fury leaned forward, continuing to talk as he eyed his two agents; he had their undivided attention. “And I lost,” Fury said as he recounted the event from his defeat by the vigilantly of Gotham. 

**July 18 th, 1996 **

**Gotham City Harbor**

Fury and a group of his men had spent months following this mysterious figure. They were following a lead that suggested that this “Batman” would make an appearance tonight. He struck fast and hard, taking down mobsters along with their goon left and right. The Batman started to make Gotham seem like a habitable place. It appeared that what he did in the night reflected in the day. Fury was reading an article that a new Police Commissioner had been chosen and had replaced the previous one that was said to be in the Mob’s pocket. Jim Gordon was his name, and rumor had it, he was working with Batman. Fury shook his head in disappointment. Fury would have to probably take the man in as well. 

Fury was sitting in a S.H.E.I.L.D recon truck waiting for the man to make an appearance. They had managed to place one of his agents inside the Italians. The agent had discovered that there was to be a buy tonight, between Italians and the Irish. Fury had his agents get to work immediately on getting the place rigged with cameras, microphones, and other recording equipment. Fury looked over the shoulder of one of his agents that were monitoring the monitors. Right now, it was only the Italians that were waiting.

A voice over his shoulder broke his train of thought, “Anything yet, sir?” It was another of his most trusted agents and friend, Phil Coulson. In his mid-thirties, the man had brown hair parted on the right, a sharp nose, and piercing eyes, showing he was vastly intelligent.

“Nothing yet, Coulson, but he’ll be here,” Fury replied with certainty in his voice.

“How can you be so sure, sir?” Coulson questioned.

Fury walked to a small table set up in the truck that held a pot of coffee that he poured one for himself. He took a sip, smacked his lips, enjoying the warm drink, then spoke, “According to our man in the inside, this supposed to be a major buy.” He took another sip; he enjoyed the burn, “With a lot, a lot of money exchanging hands tonight. I would be shocked if he didn’t show up.” Fury’s undercover agent had told them that Batman had been hitting the Italians hard. This was a big chance to hurt them; his instincts told him Batman wouldn’t miss this opportunity.

“Sir, we have movement!” called one of Fury’s agents. Fury placed his coffee down and hustled to the camera.

He put a decrypted communicator into his earpiece and gave his orders, “No one moves until I give the order. Understood?” Fury watched as cars parked in front of the warehouse. Six men came out the cars were armed, some putting handguns in their waistbands and some blatantly carrying shotguns. When the men with guns were satisfied, there was no danger, one man opened the back of a car. A man with bright red hair and a sharp suit with a matching green jacket and pants stepped out.

According to the intel, the man was Finn Cooley; he was a young up and coming man who was making a name for himself. He was a ruthless man that was known to kill his own men for their failures. Finn straightened his clothes out before going inside with his men. The cameras showed him go in, him going forward and his guards in a line behind him. The Italian mob’s muscle pulled out their guns, most being handguns and machine guns, eight in total. One man took out a flashlight from his pocket and flashed it in the window of the hanging office.

The office that was within the warehouse was attached to the ceiling, and the only way down was a set of metal stairs. As the person walked down the steps, Fury narrowed his eye, “Zoom in on that man,” he said to his agent while pointing. As they zoomed, Fury got a better look at the man. It was Carmine Falcone. He was an aged man with salt pepper hair, a narrow chin, and cold grey eyes **(1)**. He wore a white suit with matching pants, black shoes, a black shirt, and a rose in his jacket pocket. If there were any doubts about Batman being here, it was gone now. With someone like Falcone in play, Fury knew that tonight would be the best night to get his man.

The two men then shook hands like old acquaintances, both keep neutral expressions on their faces. Fury felt something was off, in all his years of experience was telling him this was a setup. “Old man Falcone! Look at you! Finally, decided to give in to our demands?” Fury heard Finn call out the Italian mob boss. Finn had opened his arms open like he had just won a grand prize, the smug smile on his face just adding to it

Fury felt a pit in his stomach begin to form. He took out his communicator and spoke, “All teams be ready to move.” Things were about to get messy, and he was going to be ready. If need be, he would pull his agent out and have the men arrested or killed.

Falcone looked at his men and then back to Finn, “I thought you came to buy guns and pay your dues?” Falcone was obviously confused as he frowned at the situation and at the words of Finn Cooley.

Finn Cooley yelled back, “What the bloody hell you talkin, ‘bout?” He looked at his men, who gave him weary looks. He was looking for any signs of betrayal, he didn’t find any. He then pointed at the old mobster, “You think to play me for a fool and then kill me?” his voice was fury. He then snapped his fingers at his men, “Boys! Get ready for a hostel take over!” His men pulled out their guns and pointed. Falcone’s men did the same as they were ready to kill on the word.

Falcone stepped forward before blood could be shed, “Hold on a second, Cooley,” he said with authority gaining both parties’ attention. Cooley held his hand up to stop his men from firing. Falcone left the safety of his men as he walked to come face-to-face with Cooley. “I did not set this up. The deal I mean,” Falcone said firmly and inquisitively. He then tilted his head slightly, and he asked, “Did you?” He was trying to see if the man was lying to him.

Cooley gave him a queer look, “Are you pulling my leg, old man? I thought you set this up?” Cooley then seemed to get what Falcone was saying as realization fell upon his face. “So if you didn’t call this meeting,” he pointed at Falcone. “And I sure as hell know I didn’t. Then who the bloody hell called it then!?” he yelled, enraged. They got their answer when the lights went out, leaving the two mob bosses in darkness.

Fury recoiled when the lights went out, but what freaked him out the most was his cameras went out. His cameras were supposed to survive an emp blast. Went. Out. He turned to his agent, who was operating the cameras, and barked out, “Get eyes back inside that warehouse, now!” Fury was not liking this; he didn’t like not knowing things or being a step ahead. Fury glared at the screens waiting for them to come back to life. The sound of gunfire broke his concentration as he burst through the back of the van and looked to the warehouse with Coulson right behind him. His men that were stationed outside were looking at it as well. The muzzle flashes of the guns were shining through the windows. Phil breathed out, “What the hell is going on in there?” Fury didn’t know if he was talking to him or in general.

“I don’t know,” Fury answered truthfully.

“Sir! You are going to want to see this!” an agent called from him. Both him and Coulson went back in the van and saw that the cameras came back on. What they were they were watching was like watching the old film of Captain America.

Inside the warehouse, the lights went out, and the armed men went on alert. The only sounds that were being made were heavy breathing. The whole building was pitch black. All occupants could barely see a foot in front of their faces. One man dug into his pocket and pulled out the flashlight he had used to signal to his boss. He quickly got eyes on the two bosses, both here fine thankfully. He then began to scan around utilizing the flashlight. He panned to the Irish, seeing them check the area as well. He then looked at the men with him.

He did a quick count and noticed only six other men on his side. Someone followed his line of sight and asked, “Where’s Mike?” Suddenly a yell came from above, and Mike landed on a crate unconscious. Immediately all the men opened fire into the rafters above. They did not know what they were shooting at, but they fired, nonetheless.

A shadow moved from rafter to rafter, only being visible when bullets scraped against the metal. The shadow pulled a gun out of his belt and fired it below. It wasn’t a bullet that fired, but a metal casing that made contact with one of the gunman’s legs, piercing right through it. The man let out a cry of pain, but it wasn’t over. The casing opened up, and hooks latched to the back of the man’s thigh. The shadow fired the gun to one of the rafters, and the gunman was then yanked in the air, rapidly losing his gun in the process.

The shadow pulled two objects from his fold belt and threw them at the gunman below. His aim was true; the two bat-shaped items lodged themselves into the barrels of two gunman’s guns. The two fired only for their guns to explode in their hands. Screams of pain rang out from the men. Eventually, the shadow dived from the rafters aiming for one of the men. The man’s adrenaline was making his hand to shake. His aim was off. He missed every shot and didn’t realize he ran out of bullets. The shadow crashed into him. The thing was on top of him as his face was pressed into the ground for a moment. His face was lifted up before he was smashed hard into the concrete.

The shadow didn’t pause as he rushed the two men who were holding their shrapnel filled arms. He grabbed the closest one by the back of the head and brought it down to his rising knee. He wasn’t let go; however, the shadow grabbed the man by his suit jacket, spun him around, and launched him into the group of men that were reloading. The shadow went to the other wounded men grabbing by the jacket, lifting him up, and then slammed him on the ground. The breath left the man’s lungs, and a boot met his face. The shadow saw the men throw away their unconscious comrade aside, so he retreated into the darkness.

There were ten men left with weapons. The shadow would need to be precise. One man took out the flashlight from before and was rapidly looking around the room. He passed it over one of the men, just in time for him to scream and as the shadow took him. All remaining men fired into the dark, not caring if they hit one of their own.

A whizzing noise cut through the air, and two men instantly slapped their necks, like they were bit by bugs. One of the goons looked at the thing that hit him in his palm. Before any words could be said, both men collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

One of the Irish mobsters charged into the dark, thinking he would make it out of the mess they were in. The battle cry was silenced with a shout of pain and the breaking of a bone. Another Irish mobster focused his eyes into the darkness, trying to find the things kicking their asses. The one then motioned for the man with the flashlight to focus it on a particular spot. He did as instructed; it didn’t matter which side they were on before. They all wanted the same thing now, and that was to escape.

The light passed over the underside of the stairs to the office. He passed over a couple of crates that looked promising. The mobster who took charge of the others motioned for them to follow, and they crept slowly towards the boxes. The man with the light stayed back, being the spotlight for the group.

As the one with the flashlight stayed back, watching the other men’s backs. He was sweating, this was supposed to be an easy sell, and they would be on their way. A gloved hand covered his mouth and nose, stopping him from screaming. It cut off his air supply, and the more he struggled, the more air he used. The man tried to move his light to get someone’s attention, but his wrist was locked in place by an incredibly firm grip. His world slowly went to black as the fight left him.

Noticing the light had gotten lower, the men turned around, seeing no signs of the man holding the flashlight. Five of them were left, and they were all about to leave their bosses to the thing in the shadows. Rustling was heard to the right, and the men fired in that direction. A voice called, “Jesus Christ! You half-wits almost killed us!” Finn was no happy. He and Falcone had run the moment the lights went out. To say he was frightened when he heard the screaming was an understatement. He nearly screamed when one of his men was suddenly pulled from the rafters. He had no idea where Falcone had slinked off to.

One of his remaining men called out to explain, “Sorry boss, we thought it was that…that …” The man couldn’t find the right words until another continued for him, “Monster!”

“Do I look like a bloody monster?” Finn screamed out.

One of the remaining gunmen was suddenly snatched into the rafters. All Finn could see was a being in black take his grab the guy, and then he was gone. His men fired again, but the man that was taken fell on them. The men shoved the guy off them and then started to form a circle. Their eyes searched the room, but there was no movement. There was only silence, and it was making them go crazy. They fidgeted in place; they couldn’t stand the quiet. “He was making noise before. Why isn’t he now?” one whispered under his breath.

“He was playing with us,” was the response he got back from one of the men.

One of the men snapped and yelled out, “Where are you!?” Fear laced in his words.

He got his answer when something landed behind him, on the three other men. What he saw was crouched, each hand occupying the back of a gunman’s head. They were smashed in the ground, knocked out. Then he noticed the thing was crouching was over one of the other gunmen. It had landed on him. It then rose slowly, and the gunmen felt himself shrink away. It stood at its full height and revealed what it was. It was coated in black and grey, almost like a shadow come alive. It leaned in close and said in a deep voice, **“Here.”** Then it delivered a mighty fist into the gunman’s face.

Finn backs up at the towering figure that had just taken four men out like it was nothing. It was a monster, something out of his nightmares that had come to life. A shiver ran down his spine as he took an involuntary step back. Just then, the lights came back on. The monster disappeared and in its place was a man.

Finn took a step forward in disbelief, his face squinting to get a better look. It was a guy in a suit. “You have got to be kidding me!” he bellowed. He then stood up straighter and pulled a Glock out of the back of his waistband.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Finn turned to see the voice came from Falcone.

“Finally, coming out of your hidey-hole, Falcone?” Finn remarked, smirking while he aimed at the

“You don’t know who is. Do you?” Falcone asked in disbelief. Finn came into town with being aware of “him”.

Finn rolled his eyes and turned to look at the man in the suit, “’ Course I’ve heard of him. I’ll admit he’s a big fucker, but come! He’s the one having everyone in Gotham running with their tails between their legs.” He then lifted his gun to the guy’s face. He walked close and had to aim up to train it on his head. Finn pulled the hammer back on the gun, a mad grin on his face as he mockingly said, “Who the hell are you supposed to be?” Finn went to pull the trigger.

Batman grabbed the barrel of the gun and deflected it away. Batman twisted the gun away from the direction of the palm, snapping the finger in the trigger guard. Batman brought a punch to the elbow, snapping it and making Finn scream. Batman gripped Finn’s wrist and pulled him towards his. Batman rained blow and blow to Finn’s face. He threw a cross and followed with a backhand. Finn was too stunned to make a sound. As the impacts continued, Batman trapped the broken elbow in an underarm hold, wrenching it up and walked them back. Batman delivered multiple heavy blows that caused Finn to lose his footing and fall to the ground. Batman stood over him for a second before kneeling over him and raining hammer blows to Finn's face. Batman examined his work, watching Finn twitch and groan in agony. Obviously, his left eye socket was going to need extensive surgery; the nose was bent in a zigzag, and teeth were missing. He spoke to the down man in a growl so that both men could hear, **“I’m Vengeance.”** Finn passed out soon after, his injuries finally taking their toll. Batman rose and walked over Finn to Falcone. He had business to deal with.

Falcone had taken a step back. He had made his empire upon the blood and bones of people. However, witnessing the brutality in front of him reminded the older man that he was no longer a young mobster. Falcone cleared his throat as the mystery Gotham Vigilante stride towards him, “It seems you’re worth your reputation, Batman,” Falcone said. It took all his years of experience and his iron nerves to not back down.

Batman came face to face with Falcone, who had to look up slightly due to the height difference. Batman’s eyes narrowed as he growled out, **“Your days in Gotham are numbered, Falcone. You will spend the rest of your days in Black Gate.”**

Falcone smirked; he like the younger man’s spunk, “I think my friends at the D.A. Office will make sure I don’t see a second in prison,” he taunted. Falcone ran this city. He had every judge, lawyer, and small crime boss in his pocket. So fruitcake in a skin-tight suit wasn’t going to change that.

 **“I’ll come for them soon. I am coming for all those who prey on the good people of Gotham.”** The smirk left Falcone. The conviction in the suited man’s voice made Falcone swallow a lump in his throat. Batman continued to speak, “ **As long as I am breathing, none of you are safe.”** Falcone completely believed him. At that moment, for the first time in twenty years as King of Gotham’s underworld, he felt powerless. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. Batman then grabbed him by the collar and lifted the man up with ease. Doors were then blasted open as men with guns came into the building.

All was silent in the van as the Fury and Coulson stared at the monitors, “Jesus Christ,” Coulson said lowly. Fury nodded in agreement. What they saw was amazing. They had thought this was a superpowered individual with no restraints. However, Fury saw no powers, just a man using skills. Skills that he knew were similar to those of assassins, soldiers, and illusionists. This “Batman” was someone who needed to be brought into the fold or eliminated. 

“All teams move in!” Fury gave the order through the walkie talkie. He and Coulson strolled out of the van as agents moved to surround the building. He watched as containment teams moved to breach the warehouse. Fury had to admit he was eager to meet a man of such talent. He tapped the receiver in his ear twice, and the order was executed. They blew the doors and marched in.

Batman turned around and watched as men and women stormed the warehouse. Falcone thought these people were the G.C. SWAT and put his hands up. Batman got a look at the emblem that was embroidered on most of their shoulders. S.H.I.E.L.D. was here; they were here for him. It was the only logical explanation.

He got the expected result when a tall man in a trench coat walked in, and some of the people parted to let him in front. Batman saw the man was a black man with no hair on his head, and his left eye was covered by an eyepatch.

Fury was able to fully take in the sight of Batman, and his outfit was impressive. It was a grey tight-fitting bodysuit, most likely Kevlar thread. A cape that was black in color, long, and ended in a pointed scalloped pattern on the back of his ankles. Batman wore black gloves that traveled up the forearms. Small blades protruded from the forearm part of the glove. On his feet were black boots that were likely able to military-grade, meant to be durable and make him as quiet as possible. On his waist was a gold belt that looked to contain several tools for the man to use. In the dead center of his chest was a yellow emblem with a black bat in its center **(2)**.

Fury watched as Batman glanced around the warehouse. He was impressed Batman was counting the number of people and looking for an escape route, “You are one impressive man Batman,” Fury said entirely truthful but condescending tone. He wanted to gauge how the person under the mask would react. The answer was met with silence as Batman glared at him, obviously annoyed. Fury cleared his throat, “My name is Director…”

 **“I know who you are, Nick Fury.** Batman cut off Nick, whose eyes narrowed. Nick wasn’t happy with how informed Batman was. **“I know you are the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. My answer is no. I am not coming with you,”** His hands slowly eased to his belt, discreetly grabbing something.

Fury frowned; how did Batman know who he was? How did this man who was only active in Gotham know about an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. was keep tabs on him? This man needed to be brought in, right this second, “I’m afraid, I’m gonna have to insist,” Fury said and motioned his pointer and middle finger towards Batman tell his agents to take him in. Fury walked away to get back to his temporary command center.

Coulson came around his pistol drawn and spoke a command to Batman, “Put your hands up slowly!” Batman did as instructed. Coulson noticed the man painstakingly took his time as he raised his hands, but they were not open. Coulson put a hand up to stop his men from going in. Coulson was not looking down the barrel aiming it at the costumed man’s chest, “What do you have in your hands!?” Fury stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to see what was happening. All the agents cocked their guns as Coulson spoke, “Drop what’s in your hand, now!” Batman opened his hand and revealed a red circular device that was flashing red. Coulson moved his back and forth to get a better look at the device. When Coulson couldn’t identify it, he asked Batman, “What is that?” Coulson wasn’t liking this.

Batman whispered out, **“Wait for it.”** Suddenly windows shattered as bats swarmed into the building. They scratched, bit, and attacked everyone in the room, except for Batman. It was complete pandemonium. All the agents were fighting off the bats, trying to get them to stop. Batman used the bats as cover, charging towards his target.

Fury was swatting away at the bats as he focused on trying to get through a door to the warehouse. He didn’t notice Batman getting close and tackle him through the door. When they went through, the door was torn from its hinges. The air was forced out of Fury’s body. He landed. Batman then aggressively Fury by his collar. Fury threw a punch to Batman’s face, but Batman leaned back to avoid it. Batman then hip tossed Fury to the ground. Fury reached for the gun in his shoulder holster and went to fire. Batman grabbed the gun by the barrel and wrenched it from his grip. With practiced ease, Batman disassembled the gun and then throw the parts aside.

Batman pressed his foot hard against Fury’s chest. Fury tried to push the foot off to no avail. Batman leaned down to stare the man directly in the face. Batman’s voice came out in a cold fury as he gave a warning, **“Do not come back to Gotham. Tell your World Security Council Gotham is off-limits. The city is under my protection.”** Batman pressed his heel down harder and gave it a little twist to get his point across, **“I won’t tell you again.”** Batman noticed some S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents coming towards, and he pressed a button on his utility belt.

Fury couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard the roar of an engine coming towards him. He listened to the voice of Coulson, calling out, “Freeze! Stop right there!” Fury took a glance when Batman turned around and hopped in a car. Fur could only be described as a supped up muscle car with a complex engine in the back. The roof of the car retracted, and Batman jumped in. The car roof went back in place, and the car speed away. Fury watched at the blaze from the engine disappeared into the city. Coulson had gotten back to him, panting heavily. Fury saw the man’s usual black suit was ripped in places, and scratches were across his face.

Coulson offered a hand to his boss, which he gladly took. In his usual snide tone, he asked, “Negotiations fell through, sir?” Usually, Fury found Coulson’s antic enjoyable, but he had gotten his ass kicked along with his agent.

“Ever observant, Agent Coulson,” Fury replied back dryly, and he dusted himself off.

Coulson had never seen anything like he just had. The guy summoned a storm of bats and had gotten away, “I know you don’t want to hear this, sir,” Coulson started to speak and looked at Fury, who was glaring at him. “But you have to admit, sir. Batman’s got style,” Coulson finished. He was slightly envious of the car Batman drove, maybe he would get one.

Fury had enough and called out, “Everyone! Move out! We’re done here!” He began walking away.

“Sir? Are you sure?” Coulson asked, but Fury walked into the command center, his pride and chest hurt too much to argue.

**Triskelion**

Fury opened his eyes as he finished his tale. Clint and Natasha hung on to every word. Natasha was thinking things over, while Clint seemed to be impressed. Clint gave a sharp whistle, “Wow, this guy “is” good.” Fury was irked that his agent found this story amusing. However, Clint was not wrong. Natasha, during the time of the story, was looking through more of the papers. Trying to gain more information on the vigilante.

Fury directed his attention back to Clint, “Yes, he was,” Fury sounded melancholy when he spoke, and it got Clint to go wide-eyed. 

“Was he dropping bodies then?” Clint asked.

“No, he bruised but never killed. Till now,” Fury answered, folding his hand in front of his face.

“I have two questions, Nick,” Natasha spoke as he diverted his attention to her. “I can guess you kept tabs on him after that incident. First, were you ever able to trace anything back to him, suppliers, intelligence?” Natasha had found it odd a single person could do the things Batman did. It was apparent he had help of some sort.

“We tried to follow the money, but it was a dead end. We couldn’t find any accounts that had the amount he would need. He checked both business and personal accounts of every CEO that had big business in the city. The guy wasn’t another Tony Stark. We then had a person of interest, but we quickly threw that list away. Not many people could do the things he did, then go work a nine to five.” Fury explained what steps he and S.H.I.E.L.D. took to find out who exactly Batman was.

Natasha nodded, agreeing with the steps taken. She would have done the same, maybe even personally interrogated a handful or seduced them into talking. She was always good at finding information, no matter what. Natasha pulled out a particular paper that had caught her eye. She then spoke as she tossed it on Fury’s desk, “Last question. Who’s Robin?” On the front page of the paper was a picture of a bank vault with men tied up, and the headline read Batman & Robin Stop The Riddler.

Fury got the same melancholy stare he had when talking about the changes Batman went through. Fury cleared his throat, “The right question is how many, not who,” he said. Clint was surprised. From what he was told, Batman didn’t seem like the kind of guy to play well with others. The fact that this guy brought in more than one was curious. “If you look at the papers, that they talk about their exploits for years, always describing as young pre-teen or teenager,” Fury states. Fury then shrugs, “So unless Batman found the secret to everlasting youth. Only answer to that question is more than one.” Clint and Natasha nodded their heads at the logic. The papers went back for nearly twenty years. There was no way the kid could be so young for so long.

“What happened to the Robins?” Natasha asked.

Fury sighed through his nostrils, “From what little intelligence we could gather, the first one left. Why? We don’t know,” Fury said. He then flourished his hand as he rambled off, “Maybe he got too old and wanted out. Maybe he was tired of working in the man’s shadow. All possibilities, but nothing solid to back it up.” Fury took a seat and took a calming breath.

“What happened to second Robin?” Natasha asked. Fury looked like he swallowed a lemon, and Natasha notice he had an uneasy look on his face. Fury shook his head in disgust, and he didn’t seem to hear her. “Nick, what happened to the second Robin?” Natasha asked, and Clint appeared to notice the worry on Fury’s face.

Fury leaned to put his left elbow on his desk as he leaned forward, “What I tell you stays in these four walls. Understood?” They both nodded at the demand.

Clint was now sitting in his chair and gave his boss his attention, “Why the secrecy?”

Fury hummed for a moment gathering his thoughts. Not really sure how to approach. After thinking for a moment, he spoke, “You know how we had to deal with Loki and how crazy he was?” The two agents looked at each other at the redundant question. “Well, Batman had a Loki of his own,” Fury revealed, and the two agents slightly recoiled at the statement. A two-person team dealt with someone like Loki was impressive. However, just thinking about Loki made them shiver. “He was just as crazy as Loki, but he was much crazy,” Fury stated, and the two agents were curious.

“How is he scarier?” Clint asked incredulously.

Fury was now ready for the big reveal, “Loki did what he did for world domination. This man did what he did because it was Tuesday, or it was too sunny outside.” Natasha felt a pit form in her stomach, and Clint was intrigued. “The man is complete anarchy. He’s human that much we know, but his the worst part of being human,” Fury says. “He killed loyal men for not laughing at jokes. He skinned the faces off of men who betrayed him,” Fury’s voice was hallowed as he spoke. He remembered the crime scene photos of when that man was done at a crime. It was ranked up at some of the most disturbing things he had ever seen.

“What’s his name?” Natasha asked. She was ready to get the man’s and go kill him. If he was a worse Loki, he needed to be dealt with accordingly. Clint could feel the dread in Fury as it seemed to rub off on him. Looking over to Natasha, he saw she was already to barge out of the room and go kill the man.

Fury hand, his hands folded up to his lips and eased them away as he whispers out a name that tasted sour on his lip, “Joker.” Clint looked skeptical at the name, but Natasha was contemplating the information. “His name was Joker, and we believe he killed the second Robin,” Fury spoke in a somber tone.

**December 13 th, 2013**

**Avengers Tower**

Tony Stark was busy typing away on his keyboard as he sat in his newly refurbished Avengers Tower. After the Mandarin incident, he took his residence in New York, wanting to be in the city that he and The Avengers had saved. However, he right now doing something he loved to do. He was experimenting on alien technology; Fury had allowed him a chance to work on the Scepter that Loki brought with him in The Event. Tony snorted, “The Event”. It was such a bland name, why wondered who came up with that name. It sounded like something Fury would come up with.

Tony frowned at the remembrance of that day. He got up from his chair and was looking at the Scepter. The city had healed, but it was not back to its original self. He felt partially responsible for the way New York was now viewed. Major companies pulled out of the city looking for safer places to set up shop. The answer to the lack of money flowing into the city was higher taxes, which pissed more people off. Tony had to come up with something to make people feel they could invest in this city and feel protected. It then came to him, a gala. Tony tapped his earpiece and let it dial, “Pepper, I got an idea. A gala where important business people get to meet The Avengers!” he said excitedly. “They can meet us and feel that their business could be safe here in New York!” Tony was up at his chair at this moment and started to come up with themes. As the voice spoke, “Come on! It is a good idea. Do me a favor, get ahold of the business people, and I’ll contact The Avengers,” Tony finished and hung up. As he thought about it, he came up with one issue, “How do I get Point Break here?” he questioned himself. Another idea for the drawing board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This is the ending; also, I hope you all like it for what it was. I got back into this after that amazing The Batman teaser got released. I was happy that I could finally see how the character looked in the suit and how the acting would look. I will say I am delighted with what I saw. I will admit, I had no clue Penguin was in the trailer till it was pointed out to me. I will give it to Matt Reeves, he looks to have found a niche that I cannot wait to see.   
> Alfred – Jeremy Irons   
> (1) Carmine Falcone – Robert Forster   
> (2) The Batsuit from Year One storyline with Grant Morrison bat emblem from his Justice League run in the sixties.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, I hoped you enjoyed the read. Like in most of my movie fanfictions, I will "cast" characters as they appear. For the most part, the characters are their MCU or DCEU actors. So here is what I am thinking for the stories. The first, as you can tell, will be a Batman v Avengers esc story. Then I was going to move on to a Batman solo story. From there, if the reception was good, I will continue.
> 
> Lucius Fox – Steven Williams
> 
> Ben Affleck – Bruce Wayne/ Batman
> 
> Kevin Conroy – Conroy Head of Security
> 
> (1) It is a Kevin Conroy cameo people hope you like it.


End file.
